


Warm My Heart

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [28]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anxiety, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), DEC 22 - Frost, Fooling Around, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: He cares for me. Maybe even loves me. I let my mind sit in that idea. Warm to it. Love.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557757
Comments: 12
Kudos: 198
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Warm My Heart

**Simon**

There's a large, overstuffed armchair in my room. I'm not sure where it came from, but when we were moving our hand-me-down furniture into the flat, there it was. Penny and Baz both insisted I needed somewhere to sit aside from the bed or my desk, so it made its way here.

I know it's large enough for two people. Before things started getting bad, back when I was still riding the momentum of _starting a life_ , I used to pull Baz onto my lap in this armchair and we'd snog for ages. (Safer than snogging on the bed, anyway.)

Just now, I'm slouched in this armchair, tipping my head back to look out the top of the window behind me. Frost creeps across the glass. When did it get so cold? It feels like it was only _just_ summer.

Baz is crouched between my knees, mouthing at my belly.

 _"I'm going to do this until you tell me to stop or ask for more,"_ he told me. And then he leaned over me, hitched my shirt up, and pressed a kiss above my navel.

That was five minutes ago, and true to his word, he's not stopped or moved from my stomach. I haven't asked him to.

His hands are braced on my waist, and he hasn't moved them. I know he won't, not unless I say.

We talk now. It's bollocks, and awkward and embarrassing, but we do. He knows I'm scared. Of this, of wanting him, of being _seen._ He _knows_ , and still wants this, Morgana knows _why_.

I correct myself. I know _why_. He cares for me. Maybe even loves me. I let my mind sit in that idea. Warm to it. Love. I close my eyes and lean into the feeling of his long fingers clutching my sides, his cold nose warming against my skin. Love.

He trails wet kisses across my belly, and I arch against him. This feels _good_. He hums encouragingly at me and licks into my belly button, and I whine.

This is making me hard, and I flush with shame and try to angle my hips away from him.

He draws back. "Time to stop?" He's looking at my face, and I can't help but flick my eyes downward. He follows my gaze and snaps his eyes back to my face. "Don't worry about it. I'll ignore it." He leans down and lets his breath ghost across my skin. He rubs his thumbs over my skin, and rises on his knees to hover over me carefully, carefully avoiding brushing against my prick. He looks up at me through his lashes and waits, the unasked question tickling my skin with his breath.

I nod quickly, and swallow hard. And then he's pressing his face against my stomach again and I whimper.

"Relax," he whispers against my skin. "I've got you. It's ok."

I tip my head back against the armchair again and look at the frost on the windowpane. I will my body to relax, to melt against Baz’s hands and mouth, but it's a hard thing.

He'll stop if I ask him to, I reassure myself. I can run away if I need to. I don't want to. Run away, that is.

I just want to _enjoy_ my bloody hot boyfriend touching me like this. My exceedingly _patient_ , bloody hot boyfriend, that is.

It’s not the first time we’ve… I don’t know. Sex is a lot less clear than I used to imagine it would be. The edges are ambiguous. We’ve done things. Mostly with Baz’s body. But I honestly don’t know how to answer if someone asks if I’m a virgin.

 _He’s going to get bored with you._ I huff out a deep breath and try to ignore the cruel voice in my head. _This is just a means to an end, and when you don’t give him what he wants, he’ll get bored._

Don’t.

Just don’t, I tell myself.

But the buzzing feeling is building in my head. “Baz,” I whisper.

He pulls away from me, carefully placing his hands on the arms of the chair. Not touching me. “Yeah?”

“You want me to…” I feel my face redden. I tip my eyes meaningfully down at his crotch and then back to his eyes.

He frowns. “Are you asking because you want to get me off, or because you want me to stop touching you?”

I sigh, and edge backwards in my seat until I’m sitting more upright. “It’s not that I want you to stop…”

Baz sits back on his heels, but puts a hand on my knee. I know he’s calculating the risk. “You’re anxious about it?”

I nod, but don’t elaborate. I’m still not sure how to talk about this kind of thing.

“What is it like?”

Merlin, he wants me to tell him what the cruel voice is telling me. I cross my arms in front of myself.

I’ve gone back to therapy. And my therapist reminds me that I _can_ share my thoughts and feelings, even if they don’t make sense. _(What about when they make too much sense, though?)_

I know I can share, but that doesn’t make it any easier. _"Baz won’t know what you need if you don’t communicate, Simon,”_ she says.

I suck in a breath and release it. “I’m afraid you’ll get bored.” I cast my eyes down, fixing my gaze somewhere around Baz’s sternum. (A spot of skin that I kissed once in a heated moment.)(That moment feels far away right now.)

“Do you really think that, or is it something your anxiety is telling you?”

I shrug. Sometimes I honestly don’t know where I end and my anxiety begins. Baz and my therapist both ask me questions like there’s a clear dividing line, but it all feels muddled to me.

“What can I do, Snow?” There was a time that I would have heard this question as impatient. (That time was honestly very recent.) But now I understand it.

I shrug. But then I move over and pat the seat next to me. “Sit with me?”

He climbs up next to me, and there’s really not enough room for us to sit side by side. I pull at his knee until he turns his hips and rests his legs across my lap. He slings an arm around my shoulders, and smooths my hair back with his other hand.

He’s looking at me with soft, unafraid eyes, and I’m almost overwhelmed by love. I hold his jaw and fall against him for a kiss.

It’s not the same as the frenzied snogging we used to do in this armchair. Back then I just wanted to ride the adrenaline and hormones and lust until I didn’t have to think or feel anything.

This kiss is slow and deliberate. It feels like the kind of kiss where I should have my arms hooked around him, the back of his neck cradled in the crook of my elbow.

Clutching him to me. That’s what it feels like. Like he might slip away if I don’t hold him tight enough.

What if I just trust him not to pull away?

I keep my touch on his face feather-light, just barely grazing his skin with my fingertips.

But I kiss him deep.

**Baz**

I can almost feel Simon stop thinking. He’s sliding his tongue against mine, and ghosting his fingertips down my neck, brushing across my shoulder. It feels like my whole body is tingling with his touch, his kiss.

I’m not embarrassed to admit I had a wank in the loo before we started this. I just wanted to take the edge off, let him set the pace. The way he’s touching me is still getting me incredibly hot, but if I focus, I can be present. This moment, these sensations, the way that Simon feels against me. I can be satisfied with whatever he wants to give me right now.

But that doesn't mean I won't try to nudge him forward.

**Simon**

Baz grasps my hand and turns his face to kiss my palm. My eyes are still closed from the lingering kiss, amplifying the sensation of his touch and making me shiver.

He drags his lips over the heel of my hand, across my wrist, and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of my forearm. I can't help but gasp. How is _this_ so sexy?

**Baz**

Simon looks at me through lidded eyes. I kiss the spot inside his elbow, and he trembles against me. I swear, his body feels like a live wire.

I've seen Simon Snow turned on like this before. I've done it to him myself.

Before he can push me away, I'm climbing off his lap and settling back on my knees on the floor in front of him.

**Simon**

I know what Baz is doing. It's frustrating the hell out of me, but I'm grateful.

He knows exactly how riled up I am. And he's giving me space.

It makes me want to push him backwards and straddle him on the floor.

He's smirking up at me, the bastard. "All right there Simon?"

My breath is shaky and ragged, but I nod.

He hooks his hands under my knees and drags me into a deep slouch, my thighs bracketing him. Fuck _me._ I close my eyes and breathe into the feeling, let it climb up my spine and into my brain.

 _You're going to ruin this,_ the cruel voice whispers to me. Fuck.

"Simon." I open my eyes, and Baz rubs his hands up the top of my thighs. He keeps going, sliding fingers up my side and lifting my shirt. I arch into his touch, tipping my head back.

I feel a dark cold lump in my heart, and the buzzing is rising in my throat.

Baz dips his head to kiss my stomach again, and I surge up into him. Desire blooms in my belly and spreads through me.

I steady my breathing, and try to let go of the fear. I try to let it melt away.

He's pushing my shirt higher inch by inch with his fingers, and I let him. But he stops when he reaches the hard jut of my ribs, and licks me there playfully, just on one side.

**Baz**

It's a lesson in patience waiting for Simon to urge me on. I have to wait for all the parts of him to catch up and decide what he wants. It's a delicate process, and I've accidentally upset it too many times.

**Simon**

I almost surprise myself when I say, _"More,_ Baz, _please."_

He sits back on his heels and looks at me. "Could you be more specific?" I know he's teasing, but he's also sussing out what I want. Making me use my words.

This is the furthest I've let him go.

**Baz**

He frowns. "I don't know what I want." It's very nearly a sexy whine. (That does things to me.)

"May I make a suggestion?" I settle my hands on his hips.

The corner of his mouth turns up. "You _may."_

**Simon**

Baz slides his hands up my chest, pushing my shirt up inch by inch with his fingers trailing across my skin. I squirm underneath him.

He settles a hand over my sternum and moves it down, brushing down my stomach to the button of my jeans. He locks eyes with me and leans down to kiss my skin, low on my belly.

And then he starts unfastening my jeans.

**Baz**

Simon is transfixed and shivering under my hands. He's looking at me with wide eyes.

I reach for the waistband of his open trousers, and hitch them low on his hips. I rub my thumbs over his hip bones. I don't know that I've touched his skin here before. He presses his hips up into my hands, just a little.

**Simon**

Baz smoothes his hands over my newly exposed skin. "Here's my suggestion. We carry on as before, like this," he kisses me squarely over my navel again, "and like _this,"_ he pushes the heel of his hand up the center of my chest. "Except the boundaries are _here,"_ he slices his hand high on my chest, just where the hem of my shirt is pushed up. "And here." He trails the fingers of his other hand low, dipping just inside the elastic of my pants.

And then he's pulling his hands back, settling them on the cushion surrounding my hips, and waiting.

I swallow heavily and nod.

**Baz**

I told Simon I would ignore his erection, but it's so distracting. He's achingly hard in his pants, right in front of me, and with his trousers open there's no hiding it.

But I am a man of my word.

**Simon**

Baz has his hands all over me, and my breath is coming out sharp and shallow. He mouths at me, dangerously low on my belly, and I roll my hips up into him.

I close my eyes and feel for the cold lump in my chest, listen for the buzzing. But the buzzing doesn't come. And Baz is warming my heart in his hands and I feel brave.

He brushes his thumbs over my nipples, and I startle.

"This ok?" He's still pressing kisses to my hips, and it comes out a muffled whisper.

I nod. And then because I'm not sure if he's looking at my face, I whisper back a tight, _"Yes."_

He swipes his thumbs over my nipples again, more firmly this time, and I choke out a whine. My eyes shoot open and I search his face.

Is it OK that I--

He must know what I'm thinking. "You're allowed to enjoy this, Simon." I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath. Baz stills his hands on my chest, letting his fingers curl chastely at my sides.

He's giving me the moment I need.

I take stock. I check in with my body. My therapist makes me practice that. _"Sometimes your body experiences an emotional response before you even know what you're feeling, Simon."_

My heart is pounding. Is that panic or...

I'm still hard. Sometimes when we've tried to do this I get hard, and then panic makes me go soft again.

I think right now I'm just incredibly turned on.

I open my eyes again and take Baz's hands, pressing them back over my chest.

He grins.

**Baz**

"You like this, Snow?" I raise a finger to my mouth, and wet the pad of it with my tongue. I bring it back down and circle his nipple again with the wet finger.

He arches and whines, and I smirk at him.

"Don't tease me, Baz, I can't--"

I bend over him and close my mouth over his other nipple.

"--Baz!"

I circle it with my tongue, my lips still closed over his skin, and he rocks his hips up against me with a moan. He's hard, and his cock presses firmly against my belly.

I want to grind down into him, but that's not what we agreed to.

**Simon**

What Baz is doing, right now, is making me stupid. I keep rubbing my prick against him without meaning to, but it's like my body is thinking for me. It feels so _good._

Baz is touching me everywhere, but he's not going any lower than we agreed. The rational part of me is glad of that, but the rest of me wants to grab Baz by the wrist and shove his hand into my pants.

Could I handle that right now? I don't know.

But my skin is burning up with pleasure, and I think I might go mad if I don't get off soon.

**Baz**

Simon is letting out these little breathy moans. _Crowley,_ this is everything.

"Baz," he gasps out. "I need-- I need to--" He growls in frustration and grabs at my hand on his hip. "Please, _please,_ Baz."

And then he drags my hand onto his cock and surges up against it.

"Are you sure?" I stroke him lightly through his pants.

He whines and thrusts into my hand. "I don't know!"

I sigh and pull my hands away from his body. "I need clearer consent than that, Simon."

He brings his own hand to his cock and squeezes it roughly. "I just need to--"

I hold his wrist and pull his hand away. "I promise you'll get to come, and really _soon."_

**Simon**

Baz is looking down at me. "How do you want to get off, Simon?" His voice is so hot. And frustrating. And I might kind of hate him and want to do terrible things to him.

 _Sexy_ terrible things. (I could deck him for pulling my hand away from my prick, though.)

I whine in frustration, but he hushes me. "Shh, take a breath. Think, Simon." He cups the side of my face sweetly, gently. (The fucking _prat.)_

But I do. Take a breath, that is. And Baz pulls away from me to sit back and wait. I tip my head back and look at the frosted pane of my window again while I just concentrate on my breath.

In.

(Let Baz get me off.)

Out.

(Send him out of the room.)

In. Out.

**Baz**

I slip out of Simon's room and lean heavily against the door after I close it.

It's not a rejection, I remind myself. He's not pushing me away.

"Oh, Basil, I didn't know you were here."

I snap my eyes toward the kitchen to find Bunce standing in the doorway. "I didn't know _you_ were here," I counter. I'm trying to steady my voice.

(Don't think about your boyfriend pulling himself off in his room.)

Penelope steps toward me, but then there's a loud groan coming from Simon's room and she freezes. Her face goes red and she takes a step back. "I've, uh... got things to do. Here. In the kitchen." She turns from me and busies herself with opening cabinets and peering inside.

Fuck me. I let my head thud back onto Simon's door.

My mobile chimes. I pull it from my pocket. It's a message from Simon. _"Come back in pls. Am done and too embarrassed to come get you."_

A grin spreads across my face, and then another message pops up on my screen. _"Did I hear Penny? Am more embarrassed."_


End file.
